


Driving is Hard

by idrewacircle



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, but never published it bc i have dumb fucking bitch disease, i actually wrote this about 3.5 months ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 02:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18326903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrewacircle/pseuds/idrewacircle
Summary: Written for the LietPol Secret Santa 2018. I'd completely forgotten to put this on AO3, so here it is! A short, sweet piece, using the prompt "Tolys finds himself in a dire situation, and somehow, Feliks is the one who saves him."





	Driving is Hard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cosmic-distance on tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cosmic-distance+on+tumblr).



Tolys clutches the steering wheel in white-knuckled hands, squinting through the foggy glass and snow at the road. Why couldn’t he have just bought toilet paper on Sunday? Why did he have to leave it to the last minute? This is literally the worst storm they’ve had in over ten years, and of course Tolys just  _ has _ to go outside, doesn’t he? On New Year’s Eve too? Can’t ever plan ahead for a situation, can he? Nope, of course not, that would require some form of intellect, some form of not-being-completely-fucking-stupid. A moron. He’s an absolute moron.

 

Thanks to his musing, Tolys notices the stag just a moment too late.

 

Tolys slams on the brake pedal as hard as he can, hooking his steering wheel far to the right, just barely avoiding the deer. His car fishtails on the black ice, and time seems to stretch on forever as he sees his unavoidable destination: a nearby ditch. Oh no. A blink of an eye later and Tolys is there, car sideways in a snowbank. His ears fill with ringing and Tolys barely remembers to switch to first gear before throwing his sedan in park.

 

“Shit.” He’ll have to climb out and check now, won’t he? Lord, he hopes it isn’t bad. Please, please let it not be bad. 

 

It’s bad. A destroyed tire greets Tolys when he finally manages to climb out of the tipping car. It looks as though it’s been in battle, ripped asunder by a grenade, though most likely it was done by one of the many rocks that line the side of the road. Shit. Shit shit shit. He pulls open the trunk and the compartment underneath. Of course. Why would he remember to replace the spare after last time? That would make sense, wouldn’t it? 

 

No. Stop. No sense beating himself up now. This was the situation, and he was just going to have to deal with it. First things first, back into the car. It’s well below 0° out, and Tolys could feel his sweat-slick shirt beginning to freeze to his back. He slides back in, careful not to tip the car further. Okay, make sure the engine is off. Don’t want carbon monoxide poisoning. Good. Now what? Help, yes, call for help. Tolys pulls his phone out. Hmm. There’s a three-and-a-half star towing company about fifteen minutes away normally, an hour in this weather. Reviews looks solid, the price is a bit steep, but it’ll have to do. 

 

“Good evening, I need a tow.”

 

“Alright, but just to let you know, everyone is busy right now. I don’t know when they’ll be back, but it will be at least another two hours, maybe more.”

 

“Oh. I’ll try somewhere else, thank you. Have a good night.” Tolys ends the call. Shit. How unlucky. He pulls up the list of nearby towing companies. The next one is a little over half an hour away, probably an hour and a half with the storm.

 

“Yes, hello, I need—”

 

“Hi sir,” comes the strained voice from his phone, “just to let you know, all our trucks are out right now. No matter where you are, we won’t be able to come get you for at least another three hours. Do you still need a tow?”

 

“Oh.” Tolys blinks. “No, thank you.”

 

“Happy new year.” 

 

“Same to you.” Next one.

 

“Hello, I—”

 

“All trucks are busy right now,” the man barks at him. “You’re looking at a two hour wait, minimum.” 

 

“Oh, nevermind, thank you, I’ll—” The line goes dead. Shit shit shit shit shit. This next one is his last hope, the only one still within a reasonable radius. Tolys crosses his fingers as he presses the call button. Please, please let this one have a truck for him. 

 

“Hi, I—”

 

“Hello, we will be closed from Monday the 31st, until Wednesday the 2nd in order to allow our employees to—” 

 

Tolys jabs the “end call” button and throws his head back against his seat. Of course. Of course this had to happen to him on New Year’s, all because he couldn’t plan ahead, couldn’t just  _ think _ for one second about what he needed to do. 

 

Wait. He still had one option. One last, uncomfortable option. Shit. What choice does he have though, really? Either he waits the three hours for a truck in his ice cube of a car,  _ or  _ he could just bite the bullet. Yes, it looks as though he’ll have to swallow his pride if he wants to make it home in 2018.

 

“Hey Lys!” Feliks laughs. “What’s up? Did you get lost?”

 

“Feliks, could you please come pick me up?” Tolys mutters into the phone, reflexively hiding his flushed face behind his palm.

 

“What? Why? Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

 

“I’m fine, but my tire popped and I can’t drive home.” Tolys sighs. “Could you come get me please?” 

 

“Oh sure, hun. Just send me your location and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

“Don’t speed!”

 

“Listen, which one of us crashed his car?”

 

“...” 

 

“That’s what I thought.”

 

“How do I send you my location anyway?”

 

“I, like,  _ just _ showed you last week!” Feliks cries.

  
  


By the time Feliks’s car finally crawls into view, Tolys can now confidently say he remembers exactly what it was like decades ago when heating during shortages was a luxury. Thank the Lord he had a spare fleece blanket in his trunk, or he might have honestly lost a few toes. 

 

“Oh my God, how did you even do that?” Feliks gasps as Tolys climbs in.

 

“There was a deer in the road, I didn’t want to hit him.”

 

“Aww, you chose to save the deer instead of yourself?” 

 

Tolys turns the heat to full. “I would have woken up again.” He rubs his hands in front of the vents, trying to work some feeling back into his fingers. 

 

“Lys, that’s bleak,” Feliks frowns, and tilts his own air vent towards Tolys.

 

“I’ve been sitting in my freezing car for nearly an hour now.” Tolys rolls his eyes. “Sorry if I’m just a  _ bit _ tense.”

 

“You don’t have to snap at me!” Feliks pouts. “I came as  _ soon  _ as I got your call!” 

 

Tolys sighs. “You’re right.” Tolys runs his hand over Feliks’s arm, caressing the bare underside of his forearm with a rough thumb. “Thank you, truly.” 

 

“No! Stop it!” Feliks jerks his arm away, but Tolys doesn’t miss the smile that flits across his lips. “Your hand is so cold! And I’m driving!” 

 

“Then drive home faster so I can warm up.”

 

“Uh, excuse me?” Feliks scoffs, squinting at him. “Aren’t you always getting on me about driving too fast?”

 

“I just drove my car off the road, remember?” Tolys leans across the center console to peck Feliks’s cheek. “I think you can get a pass for now.” 

  
  


The drive home is uneventful, calming even, for which Tolys was thankful. Four hours of sleep and a car wreck do not exactly leave him relaxed, but somehow, he feels better than he has all week. Tolys chalks it up to the shock, though in truth, a sliver of him knows it probably has to do with Feliks. He drifts off to sleep after about a half an hour of uncharacteristically careful driving, Feliks babbling something about a C-list reality tv star the last thing he hears before oblivion. 

  
  


“Lys! Get up!” Feliks whines and shakes Tolys’s shoulder again. “You’re too heavy to carry!”

 

“Whu?” The street lights seem so bright as Tolys staggers out of the car, rubbing sleep from his eyes with his free hand, the other wrapped around Feliks’s arm. “Where?”

 

“We’re home, dummy,” Feliks laughs, breath warm and wet against his neck. “Let’s go in or we’ll both get frostbite!”

 

“How long?” Tolys slurs, his eyelids drifting closed of their own accord.

 

“Like, two hours? I think that’s when you started snoring.” Feliks unlatches the door and pulls Tolys in, then slams the door shut behind them, fake-shivering dramatically and rubbing at his arms. “It should be illegal to be that cold!” 

 

“Mmm.” Tolys yawns loudly, not even bothering to cover his mouth, and swings his arm around Feliks. “What time is it?”

 

“It’s like 3:30ish,” Feliks giggles, “but I think it’s your bedtime, hun.”

 

“Sounds good.” Tolys lets himself get led to the bedroom, relying on Feliks to be his eyes as he struggles to keep his own open. They stumble down the hallways, then collapse on the bed together, his nose nestled in Feliks’s chest, feet dangling off the edge. So soft, so warm. Feliks runs soft fingers through his hair, half for the feeling, half to work out the knots that always seem to form no matter how carefully Tolys brushes it. He would fit in so well in a baboon colony. Tolys giggles.

 

“What’s so funny?” 

 

“Nothing, nothing.” Tolys sighs and squeezes Feliks tighter. “Just thinking what a great monkey you’d make.”

 

“ _ What?! _ ” Feliks slaps the back of his head. “That’s so not funny!” 

 

“Maybe not to you.” He nuzzles in closer, inhaling Feliks’s Italian perfume, swimming on the edge of sleep. “Monkey man.”

 

“Tolvydas Laurinaitus, you are the absolute _ worst _ . I should’ve left you out there.” 

 

“Maybe.” Tolys shifts to his elbows. “But then who will kiss you?” He winks, and Feliks snort-laughs.

 

“Good point,” Feliks smiles, closing his eyes as Tolys kisses him.


End file.
